A Lesson in Family
by Katsy0c0
Summary: An overworked single mom connects with an overworked first year teacher. Or, how Armin and Annie learned that life has a funny way of coming full circle, and fate often has a twisted sense of humor.
1. Chapter 1

"Have I ever told you how much I hate strobe lights?" Armin pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching his eyes shut to try and stop the pounding that grew at the back of his head.

" _Lighten_ up, buddy!" Eren said with a cheeky grin. "It's not everyday you pass your finals with perfect scores, you deserve this!"

"Yeah, well, it's not everyday your girlfriend breaks up with you, either." He murmured.

"Oh god, Armin, you dated her for a month, did you guys even…?" The crude hand gesture was enough to make Armin ill.

"Knock it off, no, we didn't. But still, it hurts." Armin looked at the gin he held in his hand, watching the ice clink against the glass as the amber liquid looked almost still.

"Then drink! Let loose! Come on, buddy. Have a little fun."

"Fun…" Armin let out a sigh. The chaotic, head pounding environment was far from his ideal of fun even on a good day. He considered himself to be firmly introverted, and typically only went to parties if he was dragged there. Which he was. Quite often, thanks in part to the best friend he was talking to now. He took a recklessly large sip of his drink, and winced as it burned the back of his throat.

"There, that's a boy!" Eren snickered, patting Armin's back.

"Where's Mikasa?"

Eren's jovial smile drooped.

"She wasn't feeling well, so she left a while ago. I didn't want to make her stay if she was feeling so terrible, you know? We can find another designated driver." He poured himself another drink as he spoke. "And, you know she's been a little moody...but, she insisted we have fun. You and I are here to let off some steam, and honestly it seems like you desperately need it."

Despite his nerves and pounding head, he couldn't help but smile. Eren was nothing if not well meaning. Even as he slid Armin a shot of Jameson's.

"Come on, just one...for Mikasa."

"Fine. For Mikasa."

The boys nodded, and linked arms. Counting down 3, 2, 1; The world became just a little fuzzier.

"EREN!" A boisterous voice yelled from across the room. Reiner, their host, waved his hands. "Get over here, we need to finish our beer pong tournament from last time!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be over there in a sec, Burly! And you," He slammed his shot glass down, and placed a hand on Armin's shoulder. "Have fun! Forget about her. I don't want to see any sulking. Dance! Talk! Get laid!"

"Eren, oh my god." He chuckled, pushing his best friend's hand away. "Go beer pong your little heart out already."

The other boy was more than happy to do just that. Eren, already tipsy and swaggering, skipped away toward the cluttered ping pong table.

As Eren disappeared in the crowd, Armin found himself slowly leaning against the wall behind him.

Oh, how he dreaded the ever lowering level of gin in his glass. He found himself sinking against the wall, ready to just sit there and stew until a familiar obnoxious voice hollered his name.

"-MIN. ARMIN get your ass over here! I need to prove something!" Jean shouted, waving him over. With his shaky movements and slightly slurred speech, Jean was clearly gone. Or at least far more gone than Armin was. For now.

With a sigh, he pushed stray blonde hairs out of his face and pulled himself back up. Barely a few steps, and Jean simply grabbed him by the wrist and tugged. He found himself in the middle of a group of familiar faces- most of them, anyway. At the very least, he spotted Marco clearly being stuck as the designated driver. Ymir pulled Historia onto her lap, keeping the bottle of vodka over her head and out of her girlfriends reach.

And then there was Hitch, shitfaced and cackling, who had her arms draped around someone equally as uncomfortable as Armin. Short, blonde, and downing her liquid courage like there was no tomorrow. Something Armin was quickly considering himself. Especially as Jean began;

"Hitch doeshnt, doesn't believe me when I say that- that you're super smart?"

"...Seriously?" It was hard not to snicker, at the very least. "Well I mean I can't exactly prove-"

"Sing that songg!" Jean pat his back, repeatedly. "The smart song that you nerds- that you nerds know! Only nerds know it, yeah."

"Don't call him a nerd you double deckered jackash," Hitch pointed an accusatory finger, with a bottle of wine in hand. "Like- Unlike your uncultured ass, Arman is a NICE boy."

"No, you fool. He is a nice _man_." Jean looked proud of himself in that comeback. Armin simply reached for the nearest bottle of whisky. "And he will- he will show you. With the nerd song. You know the one you used to sing in high school geogra-"

 _Oh god no_. Armin knew where this was going, and by the look in Jean's eyes, that near-homicidal look that only Wasted Jean could make, he knew he wasn't getting out of it. "I'm not… I'm not sure if that'll accurately prove my intelligence-"

"Doooooooo itttt," Jean slurred.

 _Worth a shot._

" United States, Canada, Mexico, Panama, Haiti, Jamaica, Peru, Republic Dominican, Cuba, Carribean Greenland, El Salvador too. Puerto Rico, Columbia, Venezuela, Honduras, Guyana, and still, Guatemala, Bolivia, then Argentina And Ecuador, Chile, Brazil, Costa Rica, Belize, Nicaragua, Bermuda, Bahamas, Tobago, San Juan, Paraguay, Uruguay, Surinam, and French Guiana, Barbados, and Guam," He took a deep breath, snickering as he noticed the small blonde girl motion for him to continue. "Norway, and Sweden, and Iceland, and Finland…

"...Monaco, Liechtenstein, Malta, and Palestine, Fiji, Australia, Sudan...tadaaah. I mean, there are other countries that are over looked… but, I haven't found a way to squeeze 'em in."

The volume at which Jean cheered was ear piercing, but Armin laughed along anyway. Hitch clapped, Ymir wiped away tears, Jean poured a round of vodka, and the blonde girl, well...she was a little harder to read. As she took a swig of her drink, her eyes seemed to stay on him. A little too hard, with drooped lids and a coy smile. Armin felt his face burn.

"Atta boy, atta boy!" Jean slipped the shot glass into his hands before Armin could even think to respond. Despite his better judgement, he closed his eyes and downed the shot of whisky in a single bound.

It tingled going down. His tongue was almost numb, but it was far from a problem. Armin cleared his throat, and found himself grinning ear to ear as the world become just a little lighter.

"Yeah yeah yeah yeah, you and- and Hitch can argue about something else now-"

"Do it again."

It was the first time he heard the blonde girl's voice. It was deeper than he expected; mature and feminine.

"Encore?"

"Yeah, you heard- you heard me." Oddly monotone, but still a hint of a melody in her inflections. She reached over, fumbling slightly as she grabbed the shot glass out of his hand- only to fill it up once again. With a hint of that coy smile again, she handed it back to him.

Armin considered himself a levelheaded lad. Especially compared to his friends, who often thought with one head instead of the other, or with their muscles rather than their brains. Not that he was above it all. However, when it came down to it, he was expected to be the one to break up fights, or to drive them to the ER, or simply have a couch for them to crash.

Yet, level headedness was only a trait of _sober_ Armin. Having already downed a glass of gin, a pre-gamed Mike's, and two shots of whisky, he found himself more than happy to accept another shot and an innocent challenge from the beautiful new blonde girl, who also just so happened to have beautiful dreamer eyes and an amazing ass. _Not that I'm looking._

The shot was downed, as was his common sense. Jean looked incredibly proud.

"UUUUUUnited States, Canada, Mexico, Panama, Haiti, Jamaica, Peru, Republic Dominican, Cuba, Carribean Greenland, El Salvador too. Puerto Rico, Columbia, Venezuela, Honduras, Guyana, and still, Guatemala, Bolivia, then Argentina And Equator- SHIT." He frustratingly rubbed at his increasingly red round nose, yet laughed all the same. "Okay, okay, okay. I got this. I REFUSE to let you down, pretty lady. United States, Caanada, Mehico-"

"Baton Rouge, Louisianna-" The blonde sang to a different tune.

"Indiannapo- Oh, fuck you," He groaned, downing another shot, tequila this time. She watched him the whole time, and he was starting to enjoy it. It hardly seemed like Jean and the others were still there. His inhibitions certainly weren't.

"'Nited States, Candda, Mexico, Pamananma- Nooooooo." Shot poured, shot downed. _Brain thoroughly gone_. Across from him, the blonde girl took a swig of her vodka through an uncontrollable laugh. Oh, was it a beautiful laugh. You could almost feel the warmth from her stomach in her wheezing, the hiccuping in her chest from lack of air. For a moment, Armin felt a pull at his heart. _Who are you_? He thought, but didn't bother to ask. He could barely produce words as she began to walk closer to him, that same dreamers look in her eye.

When she put her hands on his shoulders, Armin almost jumped. Up close he could really see how small she was, yet also incredibly toned. He could feel the muscle in the arms she wrapped around his neck.

"You'll die if you play anymore. Settle for a consolation prize, hm?" They were nose to nose, and Armin could just barely hear Jean whistle behind him. He wanted so, so badly to tell Jean and everyone else to go away. The closer the girl was, the more light he felt. Armin barely noticed his own arms snake around her waist.

"Enlighten me, I'm not good at guessing games in this state."

"What kinda prize we talkin'?" He tried so hard to sound smooth, but the flirtier his voice went, the dumber he felt. Her snicker only confirmed that.

"The kind where we go into a corner and give each other mouth-to-mouth."

Armin hardly remembered how they made it to a free corner. Most had already been taken over by others, but before he knew it his hands were under her shirt, and her lips sucked at his neck.

 _Fu_ \- Their lips crashed together without a single shred of restraint. She chewed at his lower lip, making it all the more easy for the blonde girl to slip her tongue in against his. Armin just barely kept back a moan, though it seemed the girl was determined to hear one.

Not a moment went by where he wasn't smiling like an idiot. Armin broke their sloppy kiss, only to press his lips against her neck. Without hesitation, his teeth brushed against the skin before biting down. It was her who let out the first real moan. As he admired his work for a moment, he could feel the pride well in himself.

Until, however, her thigh pressed against his erection. The pressure was a lot all at once, but he rutted against her hip. He wasn't sure when her leg had gotten there, he felt himself keen in her ear. "Unfair," he breathed. Armin felt weak as he took to the friction of his jeans against her bare thigh. His hands slid up her legs, dipping under the fabric of her skirt.

Finally, his hands felt around to her ass. He gave her a squeeze, and for once his smile became even goofier. Just as soon he felt around to her thighs. His fingers ghosted over her skin, stopping just short of her panty line.

"Ah-" Her gasp was quiet, but he reveled in it. He repeated the action, going a little higher. Of course, her leg was still in between his. She retaliated with another push against his crotch, and he silenced himself by once again crashing his lips against hers.

 _It's not enough._ Armin tried almost desperately to get her closer. The girl was just as desperate in her own movements. For a moment it almost seemed as if she'd get his shirt off, but he momentarily remembered where they were.

"Too many people," She murmured, barely parting from him. "Let's get out of here."

The smile on his face grew. He nodded, and she grabbed him by the wrist. She maneuvered through the crowd with ease. As they pushed toward the door, Armin once again heard both Jean and Eren's voices. For the life of him, he couldn't make out their words.

Not that it mattered, as he was soon out the door and walking down the street.

"I li- I live this way two housparments down. House. Houses, small house." As he rambled, Armin crouched on the ground and allowed her to climb on his back.

"Such a gentlemin…" She sighed, resting her head against his. As he stood up, he felt her smack his ass hard. "Let's ride."

He rushed down the street, ignoring his burning thighs. Armin dropped her off on the front porch, and as soon as he unlocked the door they rushed to his upstairs room. The bed was strangely ignored, and instead the girl pushed Armin against the wall. Armin helped her tug her hoodie off, and plopped it onto the ground next to his discarded shirt. His pants weren't on for much longer either.

"You want this?" She whispered, her lips ghosting against his neck. He could feel a shiver run down his spine.

"Y-Yeah. Do you?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." With that familiar coy smile, she tugged him back down and kissed him fervently. Her hands pushed up into his already messy blond hair, and Armin fumbled with the clasp of her bra.

"Let me," She breathed, backing away for just a moment. The girl unclasped her bra, letting it slide off her arms teasingly slow. Armin watched, slack jawed at the very sight of a woman's breasts.

Admittedly, he was far from used to the sight in actual physical person.

Before he could completely react, she grabbed his hands, and placed them firmly on her now bare chest. The sensation went right to his head —not the one on his shoulders.

As if sensing his immediate response, she captured his lips in her own, and moved to cup the erection hiding behind his boxers. The opening in the fabric made it easy for her to slip right in and begin stroking his erection.

"AH-" Each stroke of her hand was almost enough to clear his still drunkenly foggy head. It was clear to Armin that the blonde girl knew it, too. She had a smile on her face that was wide, mischievous, and very pleased. With herself, that is. He nuzzled his face into the nook of her neck, sighing and moaning as he began to sneak his own hands down. Her skirt already lay at her feet, making it easier for him to push his hand down into her panties.

" _Yes_ ," She sighed, as he went right for her core. Immediately she stopped her own machinations, and took both of his hands. He was eager, practically jumping as she led him to the bed and pushed him onto his back. Hands still in hand, she kicked off her panties and straddled his hips.

 _This is such a nice dream_. The drunken smile on his face gave way to a series of barely hidden moans and sighs. She pushed down finally, and the two couldn't possibly care to be quiet. Armin kept his eyes open, watching her face closely as her hips rocked back and forth. Her face, like his, was flush. Sweat fell down her forehead. Beautiful, icy blue eyes met his own. _God, you're beautiful. Unreal._ Those thoughts kept passing his mind between the groans, and the occasional filthy word or suggestion.

As she got closer, her eyes closed. Her movements became erratic against his. She lowered herself on top of him, clutching his hair tight in her fists as she nuzzled into his neck.

 _Oh,_ he thought. _Please look at me . I can't remember your face. It's blurry._

The blonde girl moaned right into his ear. Her sounds were pure bliss, helping him over the edge just enough so that, all too quickly it seemed, they came together. She screamed right into his ear, and he was only barely quieter.

"Damn…" The girl collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy. Armin himself was only a few steps away from grabbing his inhaler. The only thing stopping him was how warm she felt on top of him, and how comfortable he was with his arms around her waist. They lay for a few moments, taking in as much of the moment as their minds would allow.

The blonde girl eventually rolled off of him, and let out a brief, hearty laugh. He could hear the tickle in her stomach, and the tears in her eyes. Her laugh was as beautiful in that moment as it was at the party. Even more so in the quiet of his dark bedroom, compared to the loud crowd.

Armin turned on his side, and found that she was already making her way to the covers.

"Aww, tuckered out?" He teased, crawling toward her. Her smile was lazy, tired, but sincere. The boisterous laugh she let out only minutes ago was quickly replaced with a yawn. She slipped under the covers, and he was both fast and eager to join her.

Whether it was the alcohol or not didn't matter, because he still felt warm when she rolled over onto his chest.

"Good work, team." She yawned, with a sleepy smile resting on her face. Armin pushed the blonde hair out of her eyes, and felt his heart thud.

He was falling asleep just as fast. With his mind both high from pleasure, and loose from alcohol, he had one coherent thought; tomorrow he would know her. Her name. Everything he could stand to know in one day. It seemed she fit so perfectly against him, that he would have been more than content with them staying like that for the entirety of the next day.

Certainly, it wasn't just the alcohol making him feel that way. Why else would he have felt so disappointed the next morning?

The bed he woke up to was empty on the other side. He still lay completely bare, yet there was no sign of the beautiful blonde girl who spoke so bluntly. Not a shirt, not her hoodie. Not even a hair band. As if, maybe, it had been a sweet dream after all. One that ended as most alcohol binges usually did — with disappointment and one hell of a stabbing hangover.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **If you follow my one-shot collection, you know I've written a scene from this au before and mentioned my desire to write more. Considering me and my friend (PhaeLane) have been discussing this au for like two years, I'm genuinely surprised it took this long. This is my breather cute and silly (mostly) fluff fic to write in between the wonderful angst that is my beloved She's Got Your Eyes, and I'm definitely looking forward to continuing. I sincerely hope you enjoy, and have as much fun reading it as I have writing it!**


	2. A Lesson in Exhaustion

The tension in the room could cut glass.

Armin held his breath, waiting for either child's parent to respond. Little Maddock Kirstein sat none the wiser, coloring his little pumpkin and humming the theme song to some PBS kids show that was on even when Armin was a child. It was amazing, Armin thought, how unphased the five year old was by his parents bickering.

No, bickering was too soft a word. As they stood, Hitch looked ready to assault her ex-boyfriend with her exceedingly heavy purse at any moment. Jean didn't flinch. His glare met hers with full force.

"Now," Armin finally cut in, taking a deep breath. "Maddock really is doing excellent. His development over the past few months has been wonderfully above average! He reads well, he plays well with others...it's just, well," He paused a moment, shuffling in his seat. "I was a bit _concerned_ when I saw what he'd done for our last arts and crafts activity."

"I'm your friend, Armin, you don't have to be vague." Jean sighed, turning his attention away from his fuming ex. "What happened? Just so you know, he's been with his mom the past couple of days-"

"Oh REAL mature, Jean. Shifting the blame already? We're supposed to be co-parenting, you a-"

" _Anyway,_ " Armin interrupted, trying his best to hide his own growing agitation. Friend or not, he felt a growing need to slap both parents upside the head. "The art teacher came to visit, and their assignment was to draw and color their parents names in bubble letters, and…"

He looked at Jean, then to Hitch, then to a brightly colored motivational poster across the room. " _Keep Hanging On!"_ It read, taunting him with its bold letters. _I know_ , Armin thought. _It's for the kids. You put up with the adults for the sake of the kids._

"Well, I guess all I can say is to watch your mouths around the little ones. Maybe use 'Jean' and 'Hitch' when referring to each other instead of," He lowered his voice. "'Horse Faced Bastard' and 'Crazy Shrill Bitch.'"

Stunned silence. That's all Armin could read as their faces drained of color. He stared at them both, waiting for a response.

"Ah-"

"Maddock," Armin called to him, smiling as the little boy enthusiastically jumped up. "Can you do me a favor? Let's play a game." He motioned for him to come closer, and sat him on his lap. "Alright, smart boy, is there someone in this room named 'Armin'?"

With a bright smile, the five year old nodded his head.

"That's your name, Mr. Arlert!" He snickered, leaning against his teacher.

"Very good! Do you know someone named 'Lilliana'?"

He nodded vigorously. "My baby sissy!"

"Uh-huh." Armin slipped him an m&m for his efforts. "Now...who do you know with the names 'Jean' and 'Hitch'?"

"Uhm…" The little boy bit his lip.

"Come on, sweetie." Hitch crouched down, grabbing his hands. She looked so hopeful yet anxious, as Maddock fidgeted with an eraser.

Armin, however, simply waited for the inevitable. The color once again drained from the parent's faces when Maddock shook his head.

"Mr. Arlert, who are Jean and Hitch?"

"...You're kidding." Jean furrowed his brow, kneeling down beside his ex in front of their son. "Jean and Hitch! Mommy and Daddy!"

Maddock simply continued to laugh. It was more than apparent to Armin that, given his age and experience, the five year old boy couldn't even begin to comprehend why his parents struggled, _begged_ him to answer correctly.

Armin was already checking out. With a sigh, he grabbed the half-empty mug of coffee that sat cooling on his desk. Lukewarm. His fourth cup of the day was a particularly bitter one. Two months into his first year of teaching, and he was beginning to understand why his own teachers seemed to age so quickly. He rubbed his temple, and gazed up at the clock. 4:15 PM; a long 45 minutes after his students were let out, yet two of them still sat in the room. One was little Maddock, who still seemed blissfully unaware of the problem at hand. The other child in the room was smaller, and lost in her own little world.

Abigail was undeniably the shortest of her class. Her hair was a fair, platinum blonde that made her blue eyes shine just as bright. If there was one thing Armin could say about her, other than how obviously adorable she was, it was that she could certainly be... _imaginative_. She was a girl that was more than capable of talking your ear off, whether you wanted her to or not.

" _What's happening in Abby's world today?"_ He often asked her during freetime.

" _Revolution! Grandpa said it's time for the people to take down the oppressive established order!"_

" _...Alright!"_ Imaginative indeed.

He watched as she colored, swinging her feet under the table as they just barely hit the floor. The pink crayon in her hands was down to a nub, and Armin could only imagine how upset she would be if she ran out of her favorite color. After all, hardly a day went by where she didn't walk in immaculately dressed in pink skirts and dresses. A ballerina-in-training no less, according to her pre-school teachers.

In other words, a spoiled-sweet little princess.

 _Okay_ , he thought. _Considering what she's staying behind for, sweet is a slight stretch._

Armin took a deep breath.

"Okay, listen. Jean, Hitch, I have another parent coming in and I would really like to go home before 5 o'clock." He hoisted Maddock off his lap, and forced a grin onto his face. As if his friends actually deserved it. "He isn't in trouble, but I'll yell at you two all I want. Just be careful of what you say around your kids."

"Yeah, yeah, but-"

"Jean." Armin's glare was powerful. In an instant, the other man gave up.

"Alright. We'll give him a stern lecture at home." Hitch grabbed her son's hand. "And by 'him' I mean Jean." With an audible huff, she nodded toward Armin and waved goodbye. Jean followed closely, sulking as if he'd just gotten an earful from his mother.

 _Serves you right_ , Armin thought. There were times where he realized that, despite how much he'd changed and grown, Jean was still the same golden hearted jackass he was in college. The same pain in the ass as well.

"Finally." He exhaled, slumping back in his desk chair. The room grew significantly more quiet when he and Abigail were the only two there. Armin could hear her humming softly. That aside, it was a welcome silence.

He was alerted by the buzz of his phone. Armin tapped the screen, reading one new message.

 _Eren:_

 _In the distance, the cries of two small children can be heard. "Uncle Armin! Where are you?! We're starving!"_

With a chuckle, he rolled his eyes and responded with a simple middle finger. He was exhausted, and more than ready to crash. Yet the home he shared with his married best friends still had two small children in it that he knew would want to play.

 _No_. He was putting his foot down. Nothing on god's green Earth could keep his head from hitting the couch pillows before the clock struck-

"Please tell me I have the right room this time."

She stood in the doorway, taking heavy breaths. Such a small woman. Disheveled, tired, and just barely catching her five year old daughter in her arms.

Loosely pulled back blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and regal roman nose; no matter how unkempt she could get, Armin thought she was more stunning every short glimpse of her he'd gotten.

* * *

"This is…"

"Yeah. Exactly what you think it looks like."

"Well, that's just fantastic."

Fingers rubbed in small circles on her temple. Annie stared blankly down, marvelling at her daughter's...artwork. To give credit where it was due, Abigail's use of color was certainly impressive. Unfortunately, so was her anatomy for someone at that age. Even _better_ was her realistic portrayal of a historic massacre in the other drawing.

Annie felt heat rise on her cheeks. Despite her efforts, nothing could mask the sting of shame. Embarrassment; not of her daughter, but for herself.

"Uh, listen, Annie, it really isn't," The teacher began, but Annie cut him off with a hand. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I need a moment to stew, blondie." She murmured, letting her face fall into her hands. Annie gazed down at her ketchup stained pants. Loose hair fell into her tired, makeup smudged eyes, and suddenly she became incredibly aware of her distinct Diner smell.

"Mommyyyy, do you need a nap?"

Oh, she had no idea. Annie's 60 hour work week began to catch up with her as a massive migraine threatened to pound her head.

" _Damnit_ , dad." She mumbled, before lifting her head. Her chin leaned against her palm. It shouldn't have surprised her, she knew, as her father rarely listened to her requests. After all, _he_ had already raised a daughter once. _Clearly_ he knew what he was doing, where as Annie _clearly_ would be _lost_ without him.

" _Don't_ _let her watch Game of Thrones with you, dad."_

" _She's 5 years old, dad."_

" _No 5 year old is even going to understand a porny fantasy War of the Roses au, dad."_

Her distant cries went unheard.

Annie let out a sigh. _If I have to save up to hire an actual babysitter on top of everything, I swear..._

"...Heh."

Her head sprung up. The teacher sat across from her, covering his mouth with his hands as another chuckle escaped his lips. The corners of her own lips seemed to only drop further.

"You're laughing at me."

He came back to attention, cheeks tingling pink. Annie squinted her eyes.

"...Ohh my god, you're laughing at me."

"No, no!" He protested, putting up his hands. "I'm not! Not at you, it's just...I noticed she used pink for blood. She loves that color so much it must run through her veins. It's kind of impressive, really."

Annie's expression fell flat.

"It still feels like you're making fun of me."

"I'm really not!" He snickered, leaning forward. Armin met her gaze, and she once again felt the heat rise on her cheeks. Still feeling the sting of humiliation, Annie turned her eyes down. She could see the black smudge of eyeliner on her hand. "She's brilliant, actually. I didn't call you down here to imply you were a bad parent, Annie." She peeked up to see the grin on his face. "Abby always comes in smiling, clean, healthy. She does well in art and music. Loves to read, though her handwriting is a bit sloppy. She's progressing just fine."

Annie cocked her brow. Finally, she gazed up again. Despite her suspicions, Armin looked sincere. He wore kind eyes to match his grin- though Annie saw bags underneath that matched her own. Something else caught her eye, as well. Behind him on a corkboard, pinned front and center, was a (far more innocent) drawing with her daughters familiar style and writing.

Not that she could read Abigail's writing, of course. Even still, Annie felt a little smile pull at her lips.

"It's pretty much required of me to check up on the home situation if a kid does something...strange, but," He looked to Abby, who was cuddling close to Annie. "I know an unhealthy living situation when I see one. Yours is not. All I really wanted to do was recommend investing in child blocking programs on your home TV." As he chuckled, a smile once again ghosted across Annie's lips. _You could have cut to the chase rather than rambled, blondie._

He went on. "I've known you for a few months now, Annie. You're a hard worker. It's amazing, really. You're amazing. Be proud of yourself."

"...Thanks. I can see the brown on your nose, but thanks."

"The _what_ on my nose?!" Armin urgently grabbed his phone, checking his reflection in the black screen. "Oh- oh, you're implying I'm-"

"Did you...think I was being literal, blondie?" She found herself stifling a snicker, amazed at the rising pink of Armin's cheeks. With a bashful downward gaze, he place his phone back on the desk. An odd sense of satisfaction washed over her for the briefest moment; _consider us even for you psyching me out with this meeting._

"Have mercy on me, I beg of you. It's been a long day."

"You are absolutely forgiven."

The warm smile returned to his face.

"I mean...I could _really_ make it up to you by buying you a cup of coffee."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **I am so damn sorry this took so long. Along with all my other WIPs. I'm a college senior currently stuck in senior thesis hell. SERIOUSLY, it's consumed my life and actually getting time to write for myself is a goddamn miracle. That aside, I sincerely hope you enjoy! Sorry it's a bit short. Comments appreciated!**


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